


Stressed

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Impotence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:30:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous said:<br/>Could you possibly write Darren being really stressed or preoccupied (or whatever reason) about something and not being able to get it up in spite of Chris' valiant effort, and Chris giggling shamelessly over it and then consequently having to console Darren?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stressed

"Just - here, let me-" Darren reaches down and covers Chris’s hand with his own, squeezing with a tighter grip and jerking a little more roughly. 

Nothing happens, though. His cock stays stubbornly half hard and even that is flagging as his frustration mounts. 

"Want me to try to suck you again?" Chris offers. 

Darren sighs and shakes his head. It had felt  _good_ , of course, just…. not good enough, obviously. Not good enough to get him really going. 

Which fucking blows, pun intended, because Chris blowjobs are like birthday cake and cotton candy and everything good and perfect in the world. 

What the fuck is  _wrong_ with his dick today. He glares down in the direction of it.

"Sweetie," Chris says, kissing the corner of his mouth. "You’ve flown across the country and back three times in a week. I know for a fact you haven’t slept more than three hours a night in three days because you keep waking me up in the middle of the night. You have an audition you’re actually nervous about, and I’m not sure I’ve ever even  _seen_ you nervous about an audition.” 

"Yeah, and that’s why I thought your suggestion for stress relief was worth following up on, but I can’t even fucking-" He groans and pushes at Chris until Chris rolls off of him. He looks down at his cock again, flushed red and swollen a little but not enough to really do anything with. "I can’t even get it up." 

The last sentence is muttered in such a miserable little voice that Chris just want to coo and cuddle Darren up in his arms. He doesn’t really mean to laugh at Darren, it’s just so fucking adorable.

"Stop!" Darren sulks even more.

He tries to get up but Chris grabs him and holds him still. ”It’s stress. You know it’s just stress.” 

Darren rubs his hands over his face. “This is not a problem I have. I have the opposite of this problem. I get boners every time I sneeze. Why not now-“ 

"Stress," Chris repeats, sitting up. "So I have a better idea. Roll over for me, I’ll be right back." 

He cranes his neck around to watch Chris disappear into the bathroom. He shuts the door behind him. “Are you taking a shit now?” He shouts, but Chris just laughs in response. 

So Darren obeys Chris’s request. He rolls over onto his stomach, reaching down to adjust himself so his cock isn’t left awkwardly bent against the mattress. His positions it so that it’s pointing up toward his torso the way it would naturally if he were hard and on his back. His stomach presses his dick against the bedding and he grinds his hips a little just to see if that does anything. 

Not even a twitch now. 

He groans into the pillow and he’s about to just forget the whole bedroom deal and go find something to work on when Chris comes back from the bathroom. He gets back onto the bed and straddles Darren. 

Darren nears the snick of a cap and he wonders if Chris is just planning on fucking him whether Darren is hard or not. Darren… actually doesn’t mind that too much. Typically he prefers sex to happen with orgasms for everyone involved, but the idea of being used right now has a some appeal… he’d at least feel like he could still contribute to someone else getting their nut off. 

But there’s no press of lubed up fingers to his ass like he’d expected, just cool wet drips along his back, down his spine… then the firm press of Chris’s hands. He groans again, head turned to the site this time to not muffle it. Chris hits a knot of tension that sends pain tripping along Darren’s limbs, but it feels like heaven as he works it loose. “I love you,” Darren groans. 

Chris’s hands don’t stop their blissful work, but he leans down and kisses the back of his head. “Stress relief comes in many forms.” 


End file.
